Friday, December 26, 2008

Marley & Me (2008)

Directed by David Frankel

Written by Scott Frank and Don Roos
Based on the book by John Grogan

Owen Wilson...John Grogan
Jennifer Aniston...Jennifer Grogan
Eric Dane...Sebastian
Kathleen Turner...Ms. Kornblut
Alan Arkin...Arnie Klein

Rated PG
Runtime: 2 hrs.

The preview for Marley & Me made me cringe. I can't handle things that are designed to get a reaction out of me. Particularly when that reaction has something to do with how cute something is. It seemed the movie would be nothing more than a series of scenes in which Marley does horrible things and we all, collectively, think "Ooh, look how cute the dog is!" Well, I for one ain't down wit' dat.

I have this thing called a girlfriend, however. (She likes to be called Tracy.) She's fantastic in many ways but still has that stereotypically female weakness for all things...cute. Guess where I was Christmas Day? That's right, butt firmly planted in a seat watching Marley & Me.

Fortunately for all involved, the movie's really good. It's based on the book by John Grogan (here played by Owen Wilson), unread by me. He's a reporter, or wants to be. He and his wife, Jennifer (Jennifer Aniston), move to Florida and get jobs at different papers. In an early scene, they sip coffee as they compare their first stories. His about speed bumps. Hers a bit more important and a bit longer. And a scene in another movie that could have been played broadly for laughs or drama is simply handled as it would be in most households across America: he's proud of her and jealous and she knows it. And that's it.

Locked in careers, John can tell children a coming down the pike, and a bit faster than he'd like. So what better way to distract his wife than with a puppy? Hey, it works. Around this time, at John's paper, a columnist leaves and his editor (Alan Arkin) has him fill in, just for a little bit. John's not to sure, feeling he's giving up ground on his dream to be a reporter. But hey, it's temporary. So he writes a column about Marley. Well, people love reading about dogs almost as much as they love looking at them. So the column becomes a success. Again, never overtly stated. There are no slo-mo scenes of John walking down the beach and people recognizing him. A person references his column and he and his editor discuss its success once.

Eventually kids come, life choices are made, friendships change. Where is Marley in all of this? Right there. As our pets are, bearing witness to our lives. Sometimes ignored. Sometimes chewing on the furniture. But always there. As the movie progressed, I wondered how much I actually cared about Marley. A great deal it turns out.

The movie gets so much right. Male camaraderie, relationships, pets, growing up. There is truth in this movie. It's in the guise of a gaudily wrapped gift, but when you open it up, you won't find anything nearly as cheesy as this metaphor.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Losing Confidence, Gaining Insight

I saw young hands the other day. They weren't mine. I was on the most crowded bus I've ever been on and I saw these hands holding one of the straps. They were the hands of a man not much younger than me. At least I would say. I looked down at my own hands. Are they so much older? Has it been one to many Chicago winters spent waiting on the CTA? Can I blame them?

Christmas Eve, I sat on the el, coming home from work, tired though it was an abbreviated day. I didn't have anything to read, at least not anything that interested me, so I sat and let my mind wander, something I used to spend hours doing. I find it happens all to seldomly. And as my mind went about it's way, it found something lacking. A train of thought I can't quite map brought me to the realization that I've lost touch with the confidence that brought me to Chicago. I've gained new confidence. Perhaps deeper and stronger. But that initial confidence, I don't understand it now. At that point, I had accomplished if not nothing then very little. I had determined two years into my college schooling to focus on acting at which those last two years were catch-up. What? What on earth made me believe I might potentially make it?

I've known this to happen to others, to hear older actors talk about their younger careers and wonder how they did it. To look at their younger selves as other. I guess I didn't think I ever did enough to have that much distance. Apparently for me, I have.

As all do, I have questions about what I'm doing, what kind of success I ever hope to have/will be granted me. Days with these thoughts come around, and I beat myself up. And then I kind of look up and ask myself, "What else would you do?" When that question is no longer rhetorical....

Monday, December 22, 2008

Knute Rockne on Acting

"Why do actors in older movies sound different?"

I and everyone else who watches "older" movies get asked this question a lot. We've all seen older movies and feel that the actors' delivery is a bit stilted. Sometimes you wonder if they even know what the words mean, they come falling out of their mouths. This prevents some people from watching older movies. They can't get around the delivery of the lines.

A reader recently asked Roger Ebert this:

Q. Movies of the '40s and '50s feature actors speaking in a certain clipped delivery that seems very unnatural today. They'd jam all sorts of expository dialogue and plot points in a stilted conversation that had a machine-gun staccato. How and when did the trend to a more natural style of acting start?
Tony Sosa, Providence, R.I.

A. A more naturalistic acting style is generally said to have started appearing in films of the late 1940s, led by actors like Brando (whose acting was stylized in its own way). You didn't ask, but I'll add: Jay Robert Nash, the author of countless books about crime, says American gangsters of the 1930s actually copied their speaking styles from the movies, and that the screenwriter Ben Hecht is in a sense the creator of a speaking style heard even now in movies, on TV and during congressional hearings.

I buy this. If there's one thing that I'm sure has been a desire since the dawn of creation, it is the desire to be cool. Ben Hecht wanted to write cool. And crooks wanted to sound cool. And so one begat the other.

Or did it? As soon as I read this, I remembered a famous old speech I had seen of a coach rousing his team. Took a while, but I found it. It's a speech by Knute Rockne.



It certainly reminds me of the delivery mentioned. The interesting thing about Knute Rockne? Well there's a lot that's interesting, but for the purposes of what we're discussing here? Knute died in 1931. This speech took place in 1928. Ben Hecht's first credit on IMDb? 1926.

So which begat which?

And who cares?

People bemoan the acting of this time, but I've found that it's usually called for. Film noir, screwball comedies. These aren't about natural people sounding natural. And if the script asked for more, the best actors (Stewart, Hepburn, Grant) were able to bring what was needed. Brando came along (or brought about) a time when greater emphasis was placed on psychological truth. So the writing reflected this, or the actors reflected this and the writing followed, or both followed society.

And don't think this "unnatural" style has completely disappeared. Aaron Sorkin is a direct descendant of this style. Everyone likes to think real people talk like they do on The West Wing or SportsNight. They don't. I promise you, when my roommate and I went on a SportsNight marathon, our speech (badly) mimicked Sorkin's patter.

What we're talking about is aesthetics. They changed when Brando came along. And they've changed since. After Brando, every actor adhered to the Method. Wouldn't think of doing otherwise. Now, we make fun of Method actors. You've probably notices it too: Method acting is usually a bit overwrought. The actor is more concerned about his own emotions rather than the people he's acting with. So, instinctual acting has become the norm. To simplify, you go in, let the scene happen, and let it carry you whither it may.

So what's next? Well, I'm not so concerned about that. I'm more concerned about the past. I'm concerned about the people who turn off any movie in black and white because they don't like the acting. There was bad acting back then just like there's bad acting now. Follow the greats: Katherine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant. If you need a recommendation, start with The Philadelphia Story . There are other actors and you'll find them, but these three won't often lead you wrong. If you too turn off any Jessica Alba movie, you should probably go back and give it another go.

Like a Flan in a Cupboard

Like the Cubs in October...

Like Texas Stadium...

Like Star Wars Episodes 1-3...

Like a snowman in March...

...my fantasy football team collapsed. Oh goodness did it collapse. The Cardinals decided to suck. Brian Westbrook decided to cross his arms and not play in retalitation for not playing him when he went off. And the Oakland Raiders didn't want to feel left out so they decided to show up and shut down a running back the first time all season. Yay.

The Karma Police arrested me and didn't read me my rights.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

Directed by Danny Boyle & Loveleen Tandan (co-director: India)

Written by Simon Beaufoy(screenplay)
Based on the novel Q & A by Vikas Swarup

Dev Patel ... Jamal Malik
Saurabh Shukla ... Sergeant Srinivas
Freida Pinto ... Latika
Irfan Khan ... Police Inspector
Azharuddin Mohammed Ismail ... Youngest Salim
Ayush Mahesh Khedekar ... Youngest Jamal

Rated R
Runtime: 2 hrs.

Lacking words to describe this movie. It comes at you. Assaults is not the right word. It is driving but sweeping. It rarely lets up, but never allows the pace to outstrip the story. It uses many cuts and herky-jerky camerawork to tell its story, but it's necessary. It's vital to the telling. At every moment, this movie knows who its main character is. Every camera angle, every color, every effect, tells us who we are following and how they are feeling. The cinematography absolutely shimmers.

I've thrown about words describing Slumdog's technical achievements. They are many. More than listed above, but for those concerned, they do not the movie make. At least not completely. They are all in service, as all technical aspects should be, of the story, in this case the story of Jamal, the slumdog who becomes an overnight celebrity as he keeps giving the right answers on Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

Jamal is played by Dev Patel. Thus far, it's the performance of the year. My friend Jake has said the movie takes you through the spectrum of human emotion. True. Therefore implying that Jamal must go through the same. Also true. Take a look at Dev Patel. He's young, tall in the way that makes you believe his body's still growing into itself. His ears, let's be honest, they stick out a little. He's endearing. We expect him to feel out of his element, and when he is, it's pitch perfect. However, when he's interrogated because they believe he's cheating, after all, how could a slumdog know all these answers, the gravitas he brings is reminiscent of the best noir actors.

And when he is defending his love....

The movie leaps, from the interrogation room, to the stories that gave him these answers. Here we learn that Jamal and his brother Salim grew up in the slums. In a tragic turn, they are forced to fend for themselves. A young girl, Latika, comes along with them. This is the trio that forms the body of the movie and Jamal's love for Latika the spine.

I'm retracing in my mind where they all end up, go, arrive. A friend saw the movie and thought it was "AWESOME" (his text) but later said it was long. It is only two hours and feels longer, not because it drags, but because of the breadth of the story and the range of emotions you experience. And all the time we come back to Millionaire and watch as these stories now inform the scene, enriching what for us and for the viewers in the movie had only been a gameshow.

I've praised the cinematography. The movie is also a triumph in casting. I've also mentioned Dev Patel. But we see these characters grow and each is played by three different actors, all exceptional. And the actor playing the youngest Jamal is about the cutest kid you've ever seen.

The movie is vibrant. That's the best word. I think you need to go see it.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I Worry I'm Too Late



This is a brilliant commercial (not an oxymoron)entitled "Fate" directed by David Fincher. I've had the idea for a similar story for quite some time. Not specifically about two football players, but showing the circumstance that lead people to a meeting and then departure. It would be a movie basically about that moment in which two lives meet. Or don't. This is not to say that I can't make this movie that I've got in my head. In under 2 1/2 minutes The Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby" does what it takes Magnolia 3 1/4 hours to do. There are no original stories.

But through my life I've had ideas and these ideas have been confirmed as good because I've seen them other places. Here in this commercial. A sweeping camera shot in Finding Neverland. And perhaps my greatest confirmation by Hitchcock himself as a woman screaming becomes a trainwhistle. Others.

It's always a thrilling and disheartening experience. Thrilling to be told these thoughts/ideas have worth. Disheartening because...they're only ideas. They live in my head and nowhere else. I used to think it would be horrible to be a composer and leave behind an unfinished symphony. I want everything from artists that ever were. Even their 8-year-old sketches. Who cares? I want to see how this artist worked through their talent. And how awful, I thought, to die with something still gestating.

I don't think this anymore. How wonderful to be able to simply create something, anything, that will affect, affirm people. I've said that my goal in life is to make one person sit forward in their seat because of something I've done. It's my highest compliment; I'd like to receive it.

I may have done that, who knows, but these ideas I reference above, they are larger. They aren't meant for the stage. So they won't be realized until I can make a leap.

I'm a patient person. It is a quality that allows me great freedom from stress and guilt, things that I see eat away at others. At the same time, I can sit still for far too long. This brand of patience I have does not inherently include drive. I look at Orson Welles' career and all that he had accomplished by the age of 24, or even Paul Thomas Anderson dropping out of school and using his tuition money to make his first film. I am not jealous of their success; I am jealous of their drive. Their ability to pursue something to the extent they may have nothing left at the end but what they create.

I've never been able to live there, the fringes. I don't think I'll start now. But I still wonder, am I too late? Have my best ideas passed? Is the well running dry? Are any further ideas at risk of being tame? At my church, Tracy is directing Proof this year. I finished reading it again this morning and one of its themes is how aging can affect creativity. The worry that the best ideas are past. This seems to be particularly true in mathematics. Einstein's best work was done in his 20's.

Film can be a different beast. Though I would say Scorsese and Spike Lee are becoming more tepid as their careers role on, Clint Eastwood in his late 70's is at perhaps the greatest artistic height of his life. At the same time, I watch his movies and I don't respond to them as much because they are made with an older aesthetic. Not as in elderly, but the language of the film hearkens back to the 70's and before. I appreciate that they allow for moments to develop and trust the audience, but, well, his films don't make me sit forward in my seat. Ah, well. He doesn't care. Jean-Luc Godard, though I haven't seen his current films, seems to be even edgier than in his heyday, if not quite as loved by critics. He's striving.

Striving. I'd like to strive. To my own credit, when opportunity presents itself, and it does, I seize it. But can I count on that?

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. The germ was to simply show this awesome commercial and relate my own feelings. Those feelings quickly developed into a rather revealing blog. Which I will let stand on its own. I don't believe in apologizing for how one feels, only how one acts. Perhaps that's what all this is about. The desire to spur myself on so I don't have to apologize to myself anymore.

I'll have to sit and think about it.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Did You Hear...?

...who's hosting the Oscars?

OK, I was going to make you guess, but you've probably already heard.

Hugh Jackman.

How do you feel about it?

I kind of went, "Oh." And then I thought about it. I like it. It's different, yes. But I think in a good way. I don't know, I guess I feel he might bring a more regal quality to the Oscars? Not necessarily because he's Hugh Jackman but more that he's an actor. That the ceremony won't be based on how many jokes are landed/missed but rather by the awards themselves.

In the end, I'll probably be way off. It'll just be like any other Oscars with bad jokes and probably a song and dance number at the beginning. But I appreciate that they're trying something different.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

That Thing That's Going On Here

So you may have heard that Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich is in an eensy-beensy bit of trouble. He asked people for money for things that aren't actually his to sell. Like Obama's Senate seat. Oops.

One of my personal favorites involved the Tribune company. See, they're in need of some money (who isn't?), so Blagojevich thought he could offer them some...if they would be so kind as to fire some people who were writing mean things about your hero and mine, Blagojevich.

This story broke on Tuesday, the Tribune Company filed for Chapter 11 (I don't know what that means, but maybe someone does) bankruptcy on Monday. Wednesday morning, as I'm watching TV to keep up-to-date on the goings-on (basically what Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert had to say), a commercial comes on consisting of clips from Tuesday's press conference. The clips are of U.S. Attorney General Patrick J. Fitzgerald and others praising the Tribune Co. for their conduct. The end of the commercial? "Chicago Tribune: We're There for You." and the number you can call to subscribe.

Blagojevich just may be able to bail them out after all.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Winter Light (1963)

Directed by Ingmar Bergman
Written by Ingmar Bergman

Ingrid Thulin..............Märta Lundberg, Schoolteacher
Gunnar Björnstrand.........Tomas Ericsson, Pastor
Gunnel Lindblom............Karin Persson
Max von Sydow..............Jonas Persson

Runtime: 1 hr. 21 min.
Rating: UR

I haven't yet "gotten" Ingmar Bergman. You probably think me a contrarian. After all, I haven't written all that many movie posts recently and both begin by dissing esteemed directors. But, heck, it's true. The only comment I've really responded to in regards to Bergman was on a commentary for Fanny and Alexander when the speaker said that Bergman was known in his native Sweden more for his stage direction than his films which were considered overwrought. My own private "a-ha!" moment occurred. I wasn't alone.

However, I'm not giving up. Even if I don't go ga-ga over someone as much as the majority does (Scorsese), I at least want to be able to appreciate what it is that they do. In other words, I would never say of Bergman that I don't like him. I will say, as above, I don't get him.

I felt the door open a crack, however, after watching Winter Light. I'm already being honest so why stop now: Bergman films often seem to me to be about people crying about things I don't understand. There's always so much emoting going on, and I can often tell you what they're worked up about, but I can't always tell you why. It's this disconnect that I'm trying to bridge, though I guess I sometimes have this reaction in life, so maybe I shouldn't be so surprised. This is perhaps the reason I understood this film a bit better as it follows a man who is working through this same disconnect.

The man in question is Pastor Tomas Ericsson. We meet him as he leads a service in a small church that is still a bit large for the congregation. We watch the entire communion and begin to sense the relationship between all those in attendance. One of these is Marta (Ingrid Thulin), a schoolteacher whom we discover later is Tomas's lover.

Their relationship is fascinating. Bergman's films are about relationships. Between people. Between God and man. But they seem to exist on a plain that I've never experienced. But here was a true relationship. A woman so in love with a man and a man who cannot accept this love. Who denies it time and time again. We learn of her love in a letter that is addressed directly to the camera. There are no cuts, just a single, unflinching direct presentation. There is nothing but her face and her words to occupy us, much as Tomas must feel.

In a later scene, she once more confesses her love once more, this time in person. It's not a letter this time; she must be considered. We watch as he grows colder and more distant. He feels cornered and he decides to answer honestly. The words that he utters are devastating. Yet she simply sits there and we watch her heart break and his grow harder.

Jumbled in the midst of this is Tomas's crisis of faith. Early in the film, a man comes to him searching for meaning in a world that he feels is going to destroy itself and Tomas is able to offer no comfort. He begins talking about himself, stops himself, apologizes and begins again. Perhaps another reason I probably responded to the film, the implication seeming to be that crises of faith have very little to do with our relationship to God. They more often stem from a concern about our relationship with others.

I feel like I haven't done this film any justice. I mean, the performances are all very good. Gunnar Björnstrand as Tomas is never better than when he shuts down. Ingrid Thulin as Marta conveys so much in being so still. Max von Sydow has a brief role as the man seeking comfort from the pastor and it's interesting to see an actor who has come to be known for his regal air and power inhabit a character who is so full of fear. The camera work by frequent collaborator Sven Nykvist is simple and stark. A shot of Ingrid in silhouette, light from behind just gracing her nose is stunning.

Have I conveyed whether you should see it or not? You should. Perhaps the problem is again one of disconnect. Sitting here, I went through all the major plot points in the film feeling as if I was missing something. Nope, it's pretty simple. Yet I feel as if I've covered nothing. Perhaps that's what I'm trying to get at. It always feels like there's always more than I feel I'm getting, as if Bergman decided to film a novel and did. Every last word of it.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Perfection Not Always Perfect

I've been listening to MPR (Minnesota Public Radio) fairly often, trying to regain my passion for classical music I didn't so much lose in college as have taken away from me. Strong words, I know. I'll tell that story sometime.

Anyway, they've played Camille Saint-Saens's Danse Macabre fairly often recently. Mostly because Halloween was not too long ago. I guess it would be classified as a tone poem which essentially tells a story through music. At their best, tone poems evoke a story. At their worst, they can sound like a movie score, not evoking so much as trying to pound visuals into your brain with the hammer of music. Listen to some Richard Strauss tone poems. You'll wonder why anyone listens to this schizophrenic music and then you'll read the story he's trying to tell, nod, and never listen to it again. Or maybe not. I seem to be alone in this.

I digress. Let me tell you the story of Danse Macabre as I remember it from those single slide projectors they used when I was in school. You know, the kind that you actually dreaded was coming out because it was actually more boring than the teacher teaching. Basically, as I recall, it begins with a ghost tuning his fiddle. When he starts to play a furious melody, other ghosts come out and dance around the graveyard. It's a really neat piece and I had forgotten about it. It's one of those that you can enjoy even if you're not into classical music.

So I used the word fiddle above. The difference between a fiddle and violin? Structurally, nothing. Honestly, I'm sure a Stradivarius can be a fiddle in the right hands. Stradivariuses very rarely find their way into those hands. But that's where the difference is, the spirit in which a violin is played makes a violin a fiddle. Now the recordings I've heard of Danse Macabre are played by professional orchestras, i.e. violinists. And it's all just a little too precise. All the notes are hit, and accurately. No sliding between pitches. No flourish. A simple playing of the notes on the page.

This is one of the excuses I gave as to why I left classical music (I majored in French horn Performance in college). A wrong note in a concert is nothing more than a mistake. On the stage? Wrong, but salvagable. Sometimes amazingly. And sometimes missed by the audience. Theatergoers don't generally have a play memorized or are seeing a new play. If you go to an orchestra concert, I'd bet half the audience knows the program inside and out and has favorite recordings. They know when a mistake is made. And have opinions about the interpretation of the pieces they're hearing.

Now, I think it's cool that people can develop tastes to such an extent, but that it has so invaded the entire classical music culture is a little disappointing. I would love, LOVE, to hear a recording of Danse Macabre with fiddle players. You know, all the Nashville session musicians and Alison Krauss as the soloist. That would be awesome. I feel like when this piece is played, strings should break. It should sound dangerous. Not like you're impersonating the ghosts but you are conjuring them.

Would Camille Saint-Saens approve? I don't know of any apochryphal stories about Saint-Saens like I've heard about Beethoven. A violinist complained that the notes in Beethoven's 9th Symphony were too difficult to play and he responded, "Do you think the muse in my head worries about what you can and can't play?" But hey, they're both dead, so, who cares? Maybe the playing would raise him from the dead.

Maurice Ravel's Bolero is another piece that often suffers from this same sense of perfection. It's another great piece. You've probably heard bits and pieces, but I strongly recommend you sit down and listen to it in one sitting. I think it's about 9 minutes long. I believe Ravel himself has described it as one long crescendo. It just drives from the beginning right to the very end, but you need the whole piece to really get caught up in it. I have a recording by a lesser orchestra that I love because they come the closest to letting themselves go. Essentially, the piece is a driving rhythm over which a melody is played continuously, given to different instruments. Toward the end, the trombones get the melody and in this recording, they really just let themselves slide into every note. Not hit it precisely. And it sounds, well, slutty. And it's great! I hate hearing it played cleanly.

And don't get me started on the vocal recitals I heard in college that included Stephen Foster songs. You haven't heard anything so utterly wrong as hearing some warble through "Camptown Races." Hey, I'm all for operatic singing...in operas! But simple songs? Come on. Don't kid yourself. I'd love to hear a recording of Stephen Foster songs sung by popular musicians. You know, the aforementioned Allison Krauss, Bruce Springsteen, Bruce Cockburn, Steve Earle, Bill Mallonee, Tom Waits, John Mellencamp. That would be a good album.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Sweet Home...oh, you know

So apparently everyone else in Chicago knows but I just found out that Tom Skilling is AWESOME! For those not in Chicago and therefore those who don't know, Tom Skilling is the weatherman for the local TV news. Or the news on TV. He's the weatherman you watch on TV!

Anyway!

Point is, the dude's awesome. Here's the thing, I don't watch the news. I hate it. I tried again a couple of months back and the lead story was that a pair of legs had been found by the side of the road. Excellent. As weather forecasts universally begin about 20 minutes into the broadcast, I never get that far. Well, I happened upon him last night after Tracy assigned me to find out what was going on. We had encountered a number of emergency vehicles on the ride to her apartment and we could still hear the sirens.

Never found out what it was, but what I did find out was that the trails planes make in the sky attract or create ice crystals. And that the clouds that accumulated above them yesterday were formed of ice crystals and all these ice crystals forming indicated that a cold front was coming in. Or something like this. And that Valparaiso, IN received it's largest snowfall this early in the season since 2002.

Are you getting this? I learned during the Tom Skilling's report. He's not just some guy who looks at computer models and relays them to us. He analyzes it and probably comes up with his own models. Little ones he makes at home. Like model trains. A little tornado tearing up a little trailer park. Or scattered showers over the Chicagoland area.

Speaking of Chicagoland, let me clear something up. I was listening to an ESPN podcast. The hosts read and e-mail from a listener who said he was from Chicagoland. The hosts, having not heard of this before, thought it was something Chicago likes to call itself. Like we think we're an amusement park. Chicagoland does not refer to Chicago, specifically. Chicagoland, according to Wikipedia, is Chicago and its suburbs. I always thought it was more those suburbs (I'm talking to you, Evanston) that think they're part of Chicago. Kind of like Puerto Rico thinks it's part of the U.S.

Another thing I learned about Chicago: the Bulls and Blackhawks both have to leave their homefield, the United Center, every year because the circus comes to town. This is known as the Circus Trip. I just learned this. It began yesterday.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Football: Fantasy and Otherwise

Originally written 9/8/08

You'll have to excuse me. I'm a little hoarse this morning.

But before we get into the game, my girlfriend Tracy officially inducted me into Bear's fandom. Prior to the game, my friend had found a compilation of Hester returns on YouTube that we watched. Tracy beckoned me twice. I waved her off, celebrating with glee every return, grabbing veggies and dip quickly between. When it was over, Tracy said, "Congratulations! You're an official Bears fan. You're living in the past." God help me, it's true.

But maybe I don't have to live in the past. On this day, this bright Monday, I'm living in the present. The Bears looked good. Defense was ferocious and penetrating and scored. A running game was present. A quarterback who was clutch. Orton went for long stretches looking mediocre (and I'm fine with that), and then suddenly it's 3rd and long and we convert. He stood tall in the pocket. Hester, well, no highlights. And a real dumb move trying to fake everyone the play is over. Note to Mr. Hester: that only works when people expect you to kneel. Like that field goal attempt you returned. I'm sure someone's told you, but in case they haven't, don't try that stunt again.

Entertaining moment of the night: We sing the Bears' fight song after touchdowns. The Bears kick a field goal and our lack of song is met with the comment that they sing after field goals at the games. So we sang half-heartedly which we joked about. Host Rick chimes in, "And if we get a safety, we hum." A few plays later, there we are, a roomful of people signaling safety, humming the Bears' fight song.

So that's the real stuff. Let's look at the fake stuff. I'm playing Fantasy Football for the first time. I'm excited. I've criticized it before, mostly the coverage. Last year, Sports Illustrated devoted a single issue to both a training camp round-up and fantasy guesswork. The training camp article was 5 pages. The Fantasy Guesswork was close to 20. That made me mad.

But, a friend started a league, and so I joined. And it's real addictive.

Here's my draft:

1. (4) Brian Westbrook RB
2. (17) Michael Turner RB
3. (24) Larry Fitzgerald WR
4. (37) Ben Roethlisberger QB
5. (44) Marvin Harrison WR
6. (57) Jerricho Cotchery WR
7. (64) LenDale White RB
8. (77) Tony Scheffler TE
9. (84) Matt Schaub QB
10. (97) Arnaz Battle WR
11. (104) Donte' Stallworth WR
12. (117) Ray Rice RB
13. (124) Zach Miller TE
14. (137) Darrell Jackson WR
15. (144) Arizona DEF

In other news:
I think the lead actress on Fringe looks like a cross between Jennifer Garner and Cate Blanchett. My girlfriend wanted to throw in a bit of Jessica Biel. I said throw in all of Jessica Biel and you've got a deal. HA!

I didn't say that, which was smart. But I did write it, which isn't.

Update 11/14/08: So I meant to post this and just never did. And a lot has changed. On my Fantasy Football team. So because you care, want to update that. I'm doing fairly well. In third with a record of 6-4. First week was GREAT. And then a lot of players began not showing up. I don't even know who Darrell Jackson plays for. It now looks like this:

QB - Kurt Warner
WR - Larry Fitzgerald
WR - Anquan Boldin
WR - Mark Bradley
RB - Brian Westbrook
RB - Steve Slaton
TE - Owen Daniels
BN - Ben Roethlisberger
BN - Sammy Morris
BN - Tim Hightower
BN - Kevin Curtis
BN - Eddie Royal
BN - Carnell "Cadillac" Williams
K - Matt Prater
DEF - BodyMore, Murderland (for you Wire fans)

Little apprehensive about all my Cards, but hey, they're unstoppable. And they nearly brought me back from a 65 point deficit last week. So there it is, because you wanted it. I know you did.

The Great Dictator

Was a time I declared myself more of a Keaton fan than a Chaplin fan. The joy and...dang it, euphoria...I experienced watching The General was far beyond anything I felt during my first viewing of City Lights. These two features and a couple of Keaton shorts were all I had to go on. Then I saw Monsier Verdoux, one of Chaplin's talkies, though I'm sure by 1947, that word had fallen completely out of favor. And use. It's a sweet story about a man who seduces, marries then kills women to gain their inheritance to care for his sickly wife. Perhaps I had matured or perhaps Chaplin had matured and probably we both did and met at this movie. Because I was truly affected by it. Never hilarious, but always amusing and charming and at times, very moving, this movie was perhaps the key I needed to, if not fall in love with Chaplin, at least appreciate him.

So I decided to bump up a couple movies of his movies on my queue. First up, The Great Dictator. And I've gotta say, I was, once more, genuinely entertained. I was a bit resistant and the first bits (Chaplin failing at operation a howitzer, getting lost in fog) didn’t induce anything other than a grimace. But other bits quickly won me over. I guess that’s what you’ve got to expect from Chaplin in these earlier movies. Stories are things to hang bits upon. And don't worry, if you don't like this one, there’s another one coming down the pike.

I guess that would be a fundamental difference between the earlier Chaplin works (earlier than Monsieur Verdoux) and Keaton's work. Keaton's pranks, pratfalls and setpieces flow seamlessly within the framework of the movie. Or at least, that's how The General feels. Chaplin's movies will sometimes come to a screeching halt. One in The Great Dictator that comes to mind is when the Barber gives a customer a shave and a haircut. Set to classical music, I'm reminded of an e.e. cummings quote that Steve Martin references in Born Standing Up: "Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement." Each swish of the razor, each snip of the scissors accompanies the music, or is accompanied by. However, it has no bearing on the rest of the movie. So what am I to do with it? Enjoy it. And I did.

Chaplin plays two characters. One, a Jewish barber and the other, well, who cares what his name in the film is, he’s Hitler. We meet the Barber in WWI. He's involved in an accident and falls into a coma. Meanwhile, Hitler is rising to power. The Barber awakes to what he thinks is the world he left and finds it a much different place. The Barber falls in love with the neighbor girl and we watch Hitler becoming more and more involved with Hitler.

One of the best setpieces is a speech Hitler gives near the beginning of the film. Chaplin throws in German words like "sauerkraut" and words that sound German and noises and it's an amazing performance. A string of guttural German ends in a coughing fit. It's an entire speech created from nonsense but it ebbs and flows like a normal speech. We get the sense we understand what he's saying. I watched wondering how long he could keep it up. Unfortunately, some of the same bits are strewn again throughout the movie, taking away from their initial power.

Eventually, there's a case of mistaken identity and it's at this point the movie becomes preachy. I was going to write "a little" but that would be a gross understatment.

As an artifact, The Great Dictator is fascinating to see what we knew at the time. It's always been very unclear to me how much America knew about the plight of the Jews before WWII, but if Chaplin knew, it must at least have been fairly common knowledge and moreso once this film was released. Especially considering it was nominated for best picture in 1941.

I guess the way to watch a Chaplin film is to go in knowing he follows his own rules. You don't go for the story. You go to watch a man who knew how to entertain people and hope something comes out of that. Something usually does.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

My Predictions

Football blog here.

So, I've been informed by Tracy that someone, somewhere is predicting that the Carolina Panthers will, I don't know, win it all or at least be good.

Has anyone else noticed that this has become an annual tradition? You know what else has? Their collapse during the season.

Apparently, if you analyze Carolina's line-up every year, something magical happens and you are compelled to write that they will win. I don't look at their line-up. I'm not a sports writer. I'm a sports observer. And so I get to stand way back here without having to look through the Matrix-like waterfall of numbers. And from over here, do you know what I see? A team that is so fragile that lose any one component, you lose the team. And a quarterback who is above average at best.

So I predict that Carolina will go where it has gone every year in recent memory: nowhere.

Now, as for the Bears, Kyle Orton will start. He's simply better at doing what needs to be done and nothing more. Call him the Billy Bob Thornton of football. Also, the defense doesn't expect much from him, so there's no resentment. They step up their game.

These are my predictions.

This has been Scott Cupper, signing off from way back here.

Why Ask Why?

"Why is The Dark Knight so successful?" The ways that people have found to answer this question astound me. Like there has to be this great, insightful reason. The very people who cry out against Hollywood's slavish passion for formula are perhaps not trying to decipher the puzzle, but are none the less asking the question. And that's dangerous business. Hollywood doesn't need any help thinking this way.

Do you want to know why The Dark Knight is so successful? Because Batman Begins was a good movie. And as people talked about it (there's is no better publicity than word-of-mouth), anticipation for The Dark Knight grew. And you know what happened? It was even better than Batman Begins. My guess is word-of-mouth is just now getting people to the theater.

Another thing: people actually want good comic book movies. That will come as a shock to many. Everyone seems so surprised that movies based on comic book characters are suddenly doing so well when they once did so poorly, the general exception being Superman. Everyone looked at the data and said, "People don't like comic books movies." No. People don't like bad comic book movies. And generally, between Superman and Spider-man, there were nothing but bad comic book movies. Did you see what happened when Spider-man succeeded? A whole bunch of comic book movies! Suprise!

"People like comic book movies!" Well, yes. But what are you going to do with this information? "We're going to put out every comic book movie we ever even thought about developing." Um, have you thought about the quality? "Huh?"

Did any of them do as well as Spider-man? No. And some did pretty poorly. Why? They weren't good. Sure, Fantastic Four did OK. Because people like comic book movies.

I'll tell you another thing. People just like good movies. This certainly isn't hurting The Dark Knight either. However, our society runs on instant gratification, so when we gather statistics, we tend to analyze them with this bias. Hence the importance placed on opening weekend box office receipts. Unfortunately, this emphasis has basically ruined the possibility of there ever being a true sleeper hit. One that may never win a weekend but simply chugs along and outlasts the others. I still believe that if Shawshank Redemption had been allowed to stay in theaters, it would have eventually been an enormous hit. It seems like every other person I meets says it's their favorite movie.

You know that if The Dark Knight beats Titanic for reigning box office champ (something I still doubt will happen), it's meaningless. Box office lists don't account for inflation. Really, we should be counting attendance. Here's the most recent article I could find about movie attendance. It's from 2002. As noted in my last post, Gone With the Wind reigns supreme. And most likely always will. The most recent film in the top 10? Titanic. At number six.

But attendance don't fill the coffers, so who cares? So quality is the last thing that comes to mind. Oh, how I wish it were the first. But with so many bad movies winning opening weekend, and that being the only statistic anyone looks at, I guess this is what we're doomed to. So, expect another glut of bad comic book movies. After that, it's only a matter of time before Christopher Nolan decides he's moving on and Brett Ratner is hired as funeral director.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

This is What I Talk About

Much has been written/discussed about the state of contemporary film criticism. There are many reasons for this question being posed so much recently. I trace the beginning to the rash of horror movies that were being released every weekend to great success. Naturally, the critics had an identity crisis because, not surprisingly, they hated the majority of these movies and told people as much, but it didn't matter. It must have been doubly frustrating for a horror movie of exceptional quality (The Descent) to finally be released only to find itself in a market that didn't care anymore.

Perhaps this is the difference. One group waits for the pleasure of quality. The other pleasures itself immediately so when quality comes along, it tastes like everything else.

I digress.

More recent reasons for this discussion are major professional critics leaving (Jonathan Rosenbaum, Chicago Reader; David Ansen, Newsweek) and the abundance of amateur criticism on the internet. These have something to do with one another. But there's plenty about that out there.

So yes, much has been written and I've read most everything. And I got tired of it. And along came Armond White to set the debate ablaze once more. Actually, he's been there, I just hadn't heard of him.

So film criticism: what exactly it its place?

Well, for one thing, it doesn't really have a place. Or at least not an immediate place. I'm sorry, but the aforementioned horror movie inundation proved this. The problem with movies is that admission is cheap. It is! $10 to see a movie. Yes, we complain, we don't want to pay that much and if it wasn't for gas skyrocketing, it would be the only thing I could point at and say, "I remember when movies cost $3.50." Has it stopped me from going? No. Prevented me? On a few occasions. But if I want to see a move in the theater, I'm going to see it in the theater. It's what I do. So critics can't really tell us what we should and shouldn't see. Unless we want to see everything, like I do, and need to be told what is worth seeing and what isn't. But for people who go occasionally, well, who cares? Why would they listen to a critic. You have a cheap meal before or a few drinks afterward and either can make the night bearable if the movie isn't.

Now consider theater. In Chicago, seeing a production for $10, well, unless you can go on an industry night, doesn't happen. Average for a storefront is probably $20. I don't drop $20 lightly. And think of New York City where tickets are even more expensive. That's where critics truly matter and will be voices that are heard. Money talks. It all depends on who it's talking to. In the instance of movies, the money is talking to studios. So they'll let us see exactly what we want to see. In New York, the money is talking to the people who are putting it down. They're going to look to someone they consider an expert to tell them where to invest their money. Say hello to your investment broker, the theater critic.

So should we stop writing film criticism? Well, if the reason we write is to affect box office, yes. Wait...what? Let's not fall into the very trap we bemoan. Just because the money "talks" to the Hollywood producers doesn't mean it's ignoring critics. Yes, people don't listen to critics on opening weekends. But who is to say that they don't listen later when assembling a Netflix queue? And so sorry Mr. White, people just aren't going to intelligently discuss movies on the scale you would hope. We don't live in a time where that can happen. Everything is too niche. In 1939, Gone With the Wind made nearly $200,000,000. Adjusted for inflation, it made over $1 billion. Why? Only thing going in town. And really, Mr. White, do you think everyone in line to see GWTW was really there for intellectual exercise? There's too much out there now for everyone to pay attention to everything. And what happens when public and critical opinion coincide? The Dark Knight anyone? Even if they don't agree with you, Mr. White?

So what type of film criticism should we write? If you ask Mr. White, he's going to tell you there's one kind and one kind only. It's what I've come to think of as Macro-criticism. This places a film in its larger cultural context. Some other critics I would put into this category are Jonathan Rosenbaum and Jim Emerson. I prefer, and Ebert (whom Mr. White takes to task for beginning this trend) writes, Micro-criticism. You take a movie, and you explain why or why it doesn't work. If you see an original VW Bug, you're probably doing a little of both.

What Mr. White does is mistake bias for an absolute. He compares apples to oranges and calls one bad. I'm all for someone being able to place a movie in an immediate cultural context. I simply edit myself too much to be able to speak about something I might be able to define in another 10 years if I'm particularly observant. What's ironic is I often find this type of criticism to miss the emotional impact of a movie exactly as Mr. White finds the oppopiste to be true.

Eash bias has its own faults. I can praise a movie that I find flawed simply because it moved me. Mr. White and I both share a fondness for War of the Worlds. Is it a perfect movie? No, but it swept me up. I couldn't help it. At the same time I'm laughing at some of the dialogue for its horrendousness, I can't deny that I was moved. And in this instance, I can certainly see that it grew out of 9/11.

But where's your excitement, Mr. White? I've seen Shotgun Stories and I love it and when I talk about it with people, I get excited. That's why, I'm sorry, I go to Ebert. And why, most humble apologies, I think he's a great critic. Because he tells me whether he likes a movie and why. You tell me about its cultural relevance, which is awesome, but it doesn't tell me whether I'll like it or not. Sorry.

I guess what I'm trying to say is let's not inflate the importance of film criticism. The 60s and 70s showed us that films aren't going to change the world. But as long as people respond to movies, they will be made, and people will talk about them and critics will lead the way. Movies are an an art form, and there will always be true artists. But in the words of Pauline Kael (did you forget these, Mr. White?), "Movies are so rarely great art that if we cannot appreciate great trash we have very little reason to be interested in them."

Monday, July 21, 2008

The Dark Knight

****

7/21/2008
by Scott Cupper

Batman/Bruce Wayne................Christian Bale
The Joker.........................Heath Ledger
Harvey Dent.......................Aaron Eckhart
Lt. Gordon........................Gary Oldman
Rachel Dawes......................Maggie Gyllenhaal
Alfred............................Michael Caine
Lucius Fox........................Morgan Freeman

Written by Christopher & Jonathan Nolan
Story by Christopher Nolan & David S. Goyer
Directed by Christopher Nolan

Rated PG-13
Runtime: 2 hrs. 32 mins.

Any review of The Dark Knight must begin with Heath Ledger’s performance as The Joker. I expected him to be great, but I was not prepared for just how good he is. He makes an amazing choice in every single scene. The inevitable backlash has already begun, and yes there are tics and lip-licking and a weird voice, but these are decorations, flourishes, that come from somewhere. To hear The Joker explain that Batman needs him is to see the heart of this character. Ledger’s performance is terrifying. And funny. That was what surprised me most. At no point does it seem The Joker actually believes he has a sense of humor. He is a monster, but Heath Ledger is able to show there is great pain in this character without the script giving him the opportunity to explicitly state this. Amazing.

So, the movie. It is dark. Oppressive at times. But it is excellent. Batman has become what he wanted to be, a symbol, but it’s been lost in translation. Copycats dressed like him in hockey pads are trying to fight crime. He wonders whether he has done more harm than good. Things are not much better for Bruce Wayne. Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal) has a new boyfriend, the new DA Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart). But this man whom Bruce harbors jealousy of quickly presents himself as a potential savior, a “White Knight” able to rid the crime in the daylight and allow Bruce to hang up his cape and cowl forever.

Enter The Joker. From where? We don’t know. He simply arrives on the scene, pulsating with a lust for chaos. He has been aligning himself with various mobs, but sets his sights on Batman, or more specifically, Batman’s identity. How to go about getting it? Kill people. At that point, all the major players (Batman, Lt. Gordon, Harvey Dent, and Rachel Dawes) are forced to focus on him. This pursuit entwines them and leads them to places both physical and mental none of them could have expected.

Christopher Nolan deserves all the credit for the film’s success. His casting decisions (remember when no one wanted Heath Ledger?) are perfect. The script (written by he and his brother, Jonathan) is novelistic in its scope and themes. The stunts, at least the majority, are real and awe-inspiring. He even learns from his mistakes: The fight scenes are much cleaner and more fluid, the result of longer takes from a camera that is further from the action.

I do have one minor quibble: the court room scene with the gun is so bad as to not even feel like it’s in this movie. I honestly thought a character was going to wake up from a dream.

This aside, well, Christopher Nolan has realized in my mind the perfect Batman movie.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Where Have I Been?

You'll have to forgive me. I'm a slow writer and I've been very busy. Some know, some don't: I'm an actor and have been in shows since the beginning of the (not-so-new) year. My current show, The Mysterious Elephant and the Terrible Tragedy of the Unlikely Addington Twins* *who kill him closes this weekend.

I was asked to write a little something about performing in the show which you can find here.

It will have to suffice for now.

Scott

PS - If this is interesting to you, let me know. I'm not sure how this blog should work. Let me know what you want to read.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Acting Apparently Hard Work

Terrence Howard discovered this very thing while working on Broadway.

From IMDb
Howard: 'Broadway Is Slavery'
6 June 2008 3:59 AM, PDT

Starring in hit Broadway play Cat On A Hot Tin Roof has left actor Terrence Howard depressed and swearing he'll never return to the stage.

The Iron Man insists that if he had known the theatre schedule was so tough he would never have signed up for the role in the beloved Tennessee Williams play.

He claims that appearing on stage at New York's Broadhurst Theatre every night and trying to cram his personal life and business meetings into one day off have left him exhausted.

And he has turned to allergy medicine just to stay healthy.

He says, "Tough thing about Broadway is (it's) eight shows a week. It's slavery. That needs to be adjusted. It's wrong.

"Actors work three years straight sometimes with one day off. This exhaustion puts you into depression.

"Monday, your one day off, you have to cram in all your meetings and appointments and the rest of your whole life, and hope you can survive on Benadryl.

"Broadway is an actor's revenge. I couldn't do Broadway again if it's more than five (shows) a week. I'd just say no... Not doing it."


Jeez, if I ever sound this spoiled, just shoot me. Please. While I'm onstage.

Unfortunately, I don't think that I will be able to take advantage of the any roles he might have filled. I feel I may have stuck out in the production of Cat On a Hot Tin Roof. Oh, if only I could photoshop.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Top Ten Movies of 2007

Yes, it's a little late. But it is here. It was a sneaky year, deep issues hidden where you don't expect to find them. Much has been written about the quality of movies released in 2007 for movies, so look for that elsewhere. We're going to get right into it.

1. There Will Be Blood - Months later and I am still speechless. I may always be. I hesitate to even place it on a list. It feels like it diminishes the movie. Every time I get into a discussion about the movie with someone else who has seen it, I learn something. A towering, sprawling, gigantic movie, it is by no means perfect: fat in some places, lean in others, its imperfections create a perfection that few films have ever attained. And at the center of it, a character that finally allowed us to see just what Daniel Day-Lewis is capable of.

2. Michael Clayton - As scattershot as There Will Be Blood is, Michael Clayton is surgically precise. I didn't know how the plot would resolve until it did. But beneath its slick exterior, Michael Clayton is really a morality tale, warning against corporate greed and the personal losses it takes. That there are such great performances strewn throughout (from roles as minute as Mrs. Greer (Julie White) to the lead, George Clooney) is a testament to just how finely crafted this film is. Tilda Swinton gives the female performance of the year.

3. No Country for Old Men - Much like Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men used a genre to explore deeper themes. A bag of money is stolen, a man is sent to find it, and a sherriff considers the carnage wrought in the pursuit over breakfast. While on one level it is a simple chase picture, it also is interested in exploring fate and mortality. All the actors are excellent but it is Javier Bardem as the monster of a man Anton Chigurh whom you will not be able to forget.

4. Ratatouille - The nature of art, the pursuit of dreams, and family issues, all in the guise of a kids' movie about a rat with a passion for food. And that it does all of this with such joy and effortlessness is remarkable. And perhaps of all animated movies I've seen, this one fully realizes what animation is capable of. Paris looks a little brighter and the food, well, you'd swear you were able to smell it.

5. Lars and the Real Girl - If you're cynical, skip this one. You'll hate it. Here, let me drive you away: Lars lives IN A SMALL TOWN and is too shy to even talk to a girl so he buys a sex doll. But he doesn't have sex with it; he pretends she's real. And the people of the town go along with it WITHOUT A HINT OF IRONY. See ya. To the rest of you, my top three bowled me over with their filmmaking; this one bowled me over with a story of people simply doing good and I swear there is nothing more moving than that. The movie mines the material for some laughs, but they're never made at the expense of the characters and all of the actors love these people. Daniel Day-Lewis gave the male lead performance of the year. Paul Schneider as Lars's brother is best supporting.

6. Before the Devil Knows You're Dead - What an amazing movie this is. A bank robbery goes awry and we watch the aftermath tear a family apart. The situation becomes too much for their means of coping, and soon, years of pain and abuse can no longer be buried. To reveal anymore is to detract from the movie's power. There is a voyeuristic thrill as we watch these people unravel. Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ethan Hawke and Albert Finnery are all superb under Sidney Lumet's unflinching direction.

7. Knocked Up - Judd Apatow's follow-up to The 40-Year-Old Virgin is just as funny and deeper and richer. You know the story: a schlub and a hot girl make a baby and decide to keep it. It's full of sophomoric humor, grossout jokes, and a shot of a baby crowning. It's also full of some very real moments. Paul Rudd and Leslie Mann as a longsuffering married couple are responsible for most of these. I fell in love with all of these characters. The movie is over 2 hours long and when it was over, I didn't want it to end.

8. Atonement - Joe Wright is a complete filmmaker. He leaves no aspect of filmmaking behind. Music flows seamlessly from the background into a scene. As a character walks down a hallway, lights turn on one right after the other. A 5-minute steadicam shot shows us how idle soldiers at Dunkrik during WWII are spending their time. All of it in service of a story about a young girl who thinks she sees something that has devastating consequences on all involved for years to come. The power of the story is only truly revealed in the closing moments.

9. Once - It's the music. I can talk about how it's a feel-good movie that doesn't settle for the cheap conclusion. I can talk about how engaging the leads are. I can talk about the charm of the movie. I can talk about the fact that it's a musical that doesn't follow the standard formula. I can talk about all of these things and they're all true. But the music is what raises it to such great heights.

10. Rescue Dawn - An American pilot, Dieter Dengler, is shot down over Laos before the Vietnam War has begun. He is captured and imprisoned in a camp. He organizes an escape. Any other director would amp everything up with dramatic music and soaring camera shots. In Werner Herzog's hands, it's simply a story that needs to be told. He is ably aided by Christian Bale as Dieter and Steve Zahn as a fellow POW.

I saw a feature on the web last year in which a critic detailed her favorite moments of the year in movies. It was awesome. I didn't know all of them, but that didn't matter somehow. It's probably a better tribute than a list. I love lists, so that's why you got the above, but let me share with you a couple of my favorite moments from the year.

Lars and the Real Girl - Gus's (Paul Schneider) voice crack as he confesses his feelings about his brother Lars to his wife.

Lars and the Real Girl - Lars on the porch as the icicles thaw. He turns and sees just how much he is loved.

There Will Be Blood - Daniel Plainview's face as his brother confesses his motivations.

Ratatouille - That first bite of Ratatouille.

No Country for Old Men - Llewellyn Moss tracking the blood across the desert.

Atonement - Briony Tallis's strength when the wounded arrive.

Friday, April 04, 2008

Top Ten Movies of 2006

Yep, a year late. But here it is. Don't hold your breath for 2007. Let's say I'll try not to let a year pass.

Scott

1. Babel – In Morocco, a goatherder buys a gun so his children can defend the goats. A middle-aged couple is sight seeing in Morocco when the wife is shot while riding in the tour bus. In California, their nanny decides to take the couple’s children to Mexico so she can attend her son’s wedding. And a young, deaf girl in Japan searches for intimacy. Four stories loosely connected by circumstance are bound together by theme. We are omniscient viewers, observing the devastation that miscommunication wreaks. It is an emotional journey, but a timely one.

2. Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby – That name, Ricky Bobby, tells you everything you need to know about the movie. On one level, it’s just a funny name, but on another level, it’s funny because it sounds like a racecar driver name. It’s this ability to work on two levels (straight comedy and satire) simultaneously that makes Talladega Nights so brilliant. It adheres to the standard structure of a biopic: the tough childhood, the rise to fame, the fall, and the rise once more. If you see this, great. If not, the movie’s still just funny with great performances by all, particularly Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly. Rare is the movie that knows so well what it is. Rarer still the comedy. This is the most intelligent dumb comedy I’ve seen.

3. Children of Men – In the year 2027, the youngest person on earth is killed at 18. In England, Clive Owen is kidnapped by a former lover (Julianne Moore), a leader of the Human Genome Project. They need his connections in high places to smuggle someone out of the country. Only later does he learn that this someone is a woman and she is pregnant. This leads to a journey through a country devastated by the fact that it knows its time is finite. As much thought went into realizing what this future would look like as went into Talladega Nights’s complete skewering of every nook of the tired biopic. It’s also got two of the most incredible action sequences I have seen in years.

4. Lady in the Water – I know. Reviled doesn’t begin to describe the reaction by critics. But people, I can’t help it. I came at the movie with reservations and I held onto them as long as I could. Hey, I’m only human, I want to look good in front of you. Well, I just couldn’t hold onto them, so here I am telling you that this was one of the best movies of 2006. All it is is a simple, modern-day fairy tale about people learning their purpose for being on this earth. Please, oh please, don’t come at this movie with any cynicism. If you can do that, you may actually find you like it.

5. The Descent – I’m not much of a horror movie fan because they are so often cheaply made, and not cheap with the money (though that is also often the case) but cheap in their purpose. Thrills are the name of the game and as long as you can deliver on that front, well, what else do you really need? I think The Descent ably answers that question. It knows that thrills need to come from somewhere; they can’t simply be manufactured. So a group of women go spelunking. Tight spaces, the fear of getting lost, darkness: caves contain everything we fear and also act as a metaphor for the mind. And don’t think that director Neil Marshall isn’t aware of this. Visual quotes of other movies are parsed throughout enriching the viewing and also letting us know this guy’s done his homework. When my roommate and I saw the movie, a fire alarm went off about an hour into the movie. Our discussion outside on the sidewalk was whether there were any monsters in the movie. The thought that there might be was daunting. The movie had already been scary enough.

6. The Bridge – There was a time when people thought movies could change the world, a time captured in Bertolucci’s The Dreamers. Honestly, it’s rare the movie that even changes my mind. The Bridge, however, did just that. The filmmakers set up cameras on the Golden Gate Bridge where more people commit suicide than anywhere else in the world. For a year they recorded. And they captured some suicides on film. But it is not exploitative at all. If they saw someone who was going to jump, they called. It is the interviews that are what is hard about the movie. The filmmakers found friends and families of the people who committed suicide and in one instance, a person whose suicide attempt failed. Suicide had always been simple for me: bad. Now I feel that for some, it is nearly inevitable. This is not always an easy movie to watch, but it is surprisingly life affirming.

7. Little Miss Sunshine – I’m well aware of the backlash against this movie, and yes, it’s quirky, but it is also smart enough to realize that quirks do not a movie make. The characters begin as sketches but quickly come into focus. And then we get to have some fun. It’s a farce, it’s a road movie, it’s a coming-of-age movie for all involved. But most importantly of all, it is consistently funny from beginning to end. And that is a thing far too rare.

8. Stranger Than Fiction – My friend Tyler said it best: “That movie’s got 8 levels and I love all of them.” It’s true. I sat here for a second, trying to determine how I was going to tackle this movie and decided it a futile effort. There’s too much going on. If you’ve got reservations about Will Ferrell, let ‘em go, people, let ‘em go. So much of Will Ferrell’s comedy comes from him happening to people or circumstances. Here, he is the person to whom things happen. It’s a 180 and he is entirely successful. The performances all around are amazing. I really wanted a supporting nom for Emma Thompson. Ah, well. See it. I bet you can’t pick just one level.

9. The Proposition – The Western has experienced a resurgence recently but don’t come expecting your dad’s westerns. The West here is not only the Australian Outback but is dirty and full of dangerous people with nary a hero to save us. A wanted man’s brother (Guy Pearce), himself wanted, is caught. Here is the titular proposition: Save yourself by giving up your brother. It leads to a long and dark journey under the blazing sun. Perhaps the fascination of the Western is the sense of exposure it gives to things we try and hide: no shade and vast expanses. Whatever the case, the best movie of 2005 was The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, and here is a worthy successor.

10. A Prairie Home Companion – Another movie about death that is about life. The last show of a radio broadcast, an angel of death, and a whole lotta good music. There’s not much of a plot and the movie just kind of happens, but if you can fall into its gentle rhythm, the ride is full of joy. It’s a typical Altman production with a large cast of characters (and characters they are) and a restless camera. The performances are amazing: Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep; John C. Reilly and Woody Harrelson; Kevin Kline; and in the midst of it all without ever missing a beat, Garrison Keillor.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Movie Quote Quiz - ANSWERS!!!!

Thanks for playing.

See each quote for the answers.

Scott

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I was tagged. And thus it is my duty to oblige. And really, how could I resist?

INSTRUCTIONS:
Look up 15 of your favorite films on IMDb. Take a quote from each. List them below. When someone guesses the quote correctly, cross it off the list. I trust you will not cheat (Google). I tried not to trick, but I found myself sometimes limited by IMDb or my own preference.

(For my more sensitive readers, it gets a little vulgar.)

Enjoy!

1) [T]he fucking regret and guilt, these things, don't ever let anyone ever say to you you shouldn't regret anything. Don't do that. Don't! You regret what you fucking want! Use that. Use that. Use that regret for anything, any way you want. You can use it, OK? Oh, God. This is a long way to go with no punch. - Magnolia

2) You want to know what? If I do nothing else I will convince them that Herbert Stemple knows what won the goddamned Academy Award for best goddamned picture of 1955; that's what I'm gonna accomplish. - Quiz Show

3) Oh God! Don't you want to fuck every woman you see just once? - The Talented Mr. Ripley (You will be missed, Mr. Minghella)

4)
--No unnecessary shots, Conrad, 'cause we know what they do.

--Make infected pockets full of bile, sir.

--That's right, Conrad, that's what they do.
- Three Kings

5)
--Maybe an elf or a leprechaun.

--It was nothing like that, penis breath!
- E.T.

6) Son of a bitch, our boy came home. - The Fugitive

7) Just pretend you're a janitor. Janitors are never terrified. - Notorious (It's a little more obscure than I would have liked, but IMDb didn't have any quotes containing Cary Grant's immortal reading of two little words: "Skip it.")

8) And then what did he do? Did he train you? Did he rehearse you? Did he tell you exactly what to do, what to say? You were a very apt pupil too, weren't you? You were a very apt pupil! Well, why did you pick on me? Why me? - Vertigo

9) To smoke, and have coffee - and if you do it together, it's fantastic. - Wings of Desire

10) I tried taking pictures, but they were so mediocre. I guess every girl goes through a photography phase. You know, horses... taking pictures of your feet. - Lost in Translation

11) Do you see any Teletubbies in here? Do you see a slender plastic tag clipped to my shirt with my name printed on it? Do you see a little Asian child with a blank expression on his face sitting outside on a mechanical helicopter that shakes when you put quarters in it? No? Well, that's what you see at a toy store. And you must think you're in a toy store, because you're here shopping for an infant named Jeb. - Unbreakable

12)
--Bitch, what do you want to listen to?

--I like Schubert.

--Schubert? Well, I don't!.
- Out of Sight

13) It don't matter to Jesus. - The Big Lebowski

14) Welcome the rich man, he's hard for you to miss. His butt keeps getting bigger, so there's plenty there to kiss! - Spirited Away (Again, IMDb failed me.)

15) When you have your dick in his mouth, does he just keep talking like that? 'Cause it seems to me he just never shuts up, and I'm just curious, does that get annoying? You know you're fucking a guy in the mouth and he just won't shut up? - The 25th Hour

Jake, Tyler, Curt, Tracy, Ziggy: Consider yourselves tagged!

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

She walks through concrete

A couple of years ago, we had an intern at the office whom I would sometimes end up riding the bus with. The bus is the penultimate leg of my journey to work. After the bus is a long walk down a sidewalk through the burbs.

She and I were making this walk one morning. While we were chatting about who knows what, I noticed some pieces of wood, ahead, sticking out of the sidewalk, maybe an orange flag. I forget what exactly, but I realized there was wet concrete ahead. As we got closer, I stepped off the sidewalk into a yard. And I left plenty of room for her to do the same. She didn't immediately. She kept walking and chatting.

I thought, "She can't possibly not see there's wet concrete ahead." And the closer we got, the louder and more incredulous this thought became until....

Ploop

"Whoa!"

Ploop

Ploop

And she was off into the grass on the other side of the concrete from me, her shoes now caked in drying cement, and three tiny footprints left in the concrete, telling the tale.

This girl was found in Lake Michigan this weekend.

Sorry, that's dramatic and perhaps not fair, but that's how I feel.

I guess what makes it so hard is that whatever happened to her, I can see. I know what she looked like. I know her voice. So many people pass from this world in anonymity to me, but not her. I've got a face for this one.

The police either don't know much or aren't releasing details, hoping that if it was a murder, someone will call with a detail that couldn't possibly be known or conveyed by someone who wasn't there at the time. And in a couple of days, weeks, months, years, never, the case will be "ruled" on. And a name on a board will go from red to black.

But to me, she'll always be the girl who walked through concrete.